


Re-equilibration

by the_genderman



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Canon Divergence - Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Gen, M/M, Mutual Pining, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Recovery, Steve is being kind of moody
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-10
Updated: 2017-06-10
Packaged: 2018-11-12 07:12:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11156880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_genderman/pseuds/the_genderman
Summary: Basically, I’m attempting a “recovery fic” type fic like the ones that were written after CA:TWS but before the other movies came out, but well after the actual canon has been set. *shrug*Five chapters, each inspired by a song chosen from my iTunes library by random.org.Originally posted January 2017 on Tumblr. There may be some minor word choice/grammar changes.Chapters 1-4 are rated T. Chapter 5 earns the fic the E rating. If you don't care to read the smut, Chapter Four ends on a positive enough note.





	1. The Highest Gander

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Song is "The Highest Gander" - Robert Wyatt
> 
> https://youtu.be/aFVlAyLmOpQ

"They _what_?!" Steve practically shouted. "Why was I the last person to find out about this?"

"Hey, don’t shoot the messenger," Sam said. "I only found out before you because _you_ didn’t take your phone with you on the burger run. It started ringing and the screen said 'Emergency' so I thought I should probably answer it, seeing as it was an emergency."

Steve pinched the bridge of his nose and sat down on his motel bed. "And you waited until _after_ we’d eaten to tell me this, why?"

"Because I was hungry? And I didn’t want to sit through an _interrogation_ until after I’d gotten some food in me? It's not like telling you twenty minutes earlier would get us back to New York that much quicker," Sam said, mildly incredulous.

Steve had received intel on the Winter Soldier. Promising intel. Promising enough to land him and Sam in a cheap motel off of I-74 in south central Indiana. Why Indiana? Well, Bucky had been born in Shelbyville, Indiana, and someone roughly matching his description had been spotted being 'generally suspicious,' as the anonymous tipster had said, in the Indianapolis International Airport. It wasn’t entirely unreasonable to think he might be here trying to find out more about his past. They had arrived at the airport, asked some questions, got no additional useful information, and had been forced to regroup to plan out their next move. Which, how it looked to Sam, was to make a base of operations in a dingy motel room and make enough noise in a small, Midwestern town that if the Winter Soldier– Bucky– had been here, he was long gone by now. Sam had been about to gently suggest to Steve that they head back to New York, because clearly this intel had not panned out, when the phone call had happened.

"Ok, ok, sorry" Steve sighed. "It’s just… I don’t know. Tell me again what they said when they called my phone? As close to word for word as you can."

"Alright, word for word," Sam nodded. "I answered the phone, 'Hello, Steve’s phone,' and Tony said 'Hey, Steve, we’ve got a bit of a frosty situ–wait, you’re not Steve. Who are you and why are you on Steve’s phone?'"

"Tony should know who you are by now, you’ve been an Avenger for three months… never mind, I didn’t realize it was him on the other end. Just give me the short version."

"CliffsNotes version: Natasha was in Bucharest for reasons only known to Natasha. She encountered the Winter Soldier, subdued him, and had him removed to the Avengers Tower. Where he arrived roughly two hours ago. He’s being kept under observation in one of the Hulk-proof rooms. According to Tony, he thought you were in the Tower somewhere (" _Why_ would he think that?" Steve interrupted. "We’ve been in Indiana for _four days_ , we _told_ him what we were doing.") and only after Hill asked if he’d called you yet did he remember that you were about seven hundred miles away from where he thought you were," Sam expounded.

Steve facepalmed. "Is Tony at least sending a Quinjet for us? If we have to drive all the way back to Manhattan…."

"Yep, he said to expect our ride by about a quarter past. He’s sending an intern to drive the rental back for us."

"Does this intern actually have a driver’s license? Last time he sent someone to pick up my bike when I got called in on an emergency mission, it turned out the kid had ridden one of those little city scooter things once and had somehow convinced Tony that he could handle a Harley. I think he just wanted to be able to brag that he’d ridden Captain America’s bike."

Sam just shrugged.

\-----------------------

Tony was there on the landing pad of the Avengers Tower when the Quinjet arrived. As Steve debarked, Tony walked towards him with his hands up in a gesture of what came as close to apology as Tony ever got.

"Look, Steve, I honestly thought you were somewhere in the Tower. I’ve had a lot on my plate, we all have, what with me retiring and then HYDRA showing up and having to un-retire and I’m still rebuilding my arsenal of suits, and all that. You know," Tony said.

Steve gave Tony the briefest greeting he could bring himself to do before heading inside. 

"You’re welcome!" Tony called after him and turned to Sam. "Uh, hi. You must be not-Steve who answered Steve’s phone. Who are you again?"

"I’m Sam. Sam Wilson?"

Tony squinted at him, trying to place his face.

"You know? Your new teammate? Falcon? You rebuilt my wings?"

Tony’s face lit up. "Ah! Yes. Of course. The wings. Beautiful piece of technology. It was a privilege to work on them, Sam."

\--------------------------

One of Bruce’s labs had been hastily emptied of anything which could conceivably (or inconceivably) be turned into a weapon and been revamped into an emergency living quarters. A cot had been tucked up against one wall. A small suitcase with a few extra sets of clothes was sitting at the foot of the cot. A mini-fridge had been added, stocked with water bottles and various flavors of Gatorade. A bowl of mixed fruit and protein bars had been placed on top of the mini-fridge. The attached bathroom had been emptied of Bruce’s things and restocked with new soap, shampoo, towels, a travel toothbrush (more difficult to make a shank out of one of those), toothpaste, and a comb. No shaving kit. The Winter Soldier wasn’t being allowed sharp objects just yet. The entire floor had been put on emergency lock-down, no-one allowed in or out without direct permission from Maria Hill. Tony included. ("It’s _my_ tower," he had grumbled.)

The elevator had asked for Hill’s voiceprint upon selecting the restricted floor and upon arrival. They were taking no chances. As the elevator doors slid open, Steve could see into the lab through the glass wall. The Hulk-proof glass wall. Inside the lab, Bucky was pacing, reminding Steve of the way the big cats would pace their enclosures at the zoo. Bucky had noticed the movement or something, because he had momentarily paused and turned to look at the newcomers. If he recognized them, he didn’t let it show, and went back to pacing. Natasha rose from one of the lobby chairs and came over to greet them.

"What took you so long?" She asked.

"Tony forgot that we were in Indiana," Sam said before Steve could reply.

'Figures. Well, here’s the situation. First off, none of us are allowed in the lab with him, don’t even try. J.A.R.V.I.S. will tranq you, and Steve, if you think Tony hasn’t figured out how to knock you out in spite of the serum, just out of sheer curiosity, you’re deluded. Secondly, I was in Bucharest for reasons you don’t need to know. While I was over there, I found him and had him brought back here. From what I’ve observed, he remembers me. Or at the very least, he’s a little bit afraid of me, which highly suggests that he remembers me. I’m not sure how much else he remembers. I’ve tried asking him some questions, but he only answers if it suits him. He won’t say why he was in Romania or how he got there without attracting Interpol’s attention. He responds to 'James' and to 'Bucky,' but that might just be because he needed a name and that’s what you called him when he started coming out from under HYDRA control. He might not remember you, Steve," Natasha said, placing a warning hand lightly on his arm.

"He does, or at least he will," Steve said confidently.

"Now where have I heard that before?" Sam said, rolling his eyes.

 

\----------------------

Bucky watched his newest visitors out of the corner of his eye. He wasn’t about to give them the satisfaction of letting them know he was paying them any real attention. They were the ones who had plucked him out of his new life and brought him back to New York and to memories that he wasn’t ready to face yet. One of those memories was standing in the lobby outside his fancy glass prison talking to the Black Widow. 

Oh, he remembered Steve. Steve had been one of his first memories to return. But when the Black Widow had asked him about Steve, he had played dumb. Better to pretend like he didn’t know him, didn’t know any of them. That way maybe they’d slip up and talk in front of him, let him know what their plans for him were. Because he wasn’t going back. They may not be HYDRA, but they had some kind of agenda, he was sure of it. Everyone did. _Why_ they wanted him was the real question. The Black Widow said that they wanted to help him, but his memories of her consisted mostly of various forms of violence, the latest encounter resulting in her electrocuting him and locking him in this room like some kind of research specimen.

The intercom buzzed. Bucky turned to see Steve standing at the window. He wasn’t in his Captain America costume this time, but khakis, a white t-shirt, and a leather jacket. He looked a lot more ‘Steve’ than he had when Bucky had left him on the bank of the Potomac. Steve gave a little half smile, his face looking like it wasn’t quite sure what emotion to register. The others hung back. Bucky walked over to the intercom on his end and stopped pacing.

"Hey, Buck. Um… how are you?" Steve asked.

Bucky just stared at him, goading him to show his hand.

"Ok, let’s try this again. Do you know who I am?"

"You’re Steve," Bucky replied curtly.

"That’s right," Steve said, turning to give a pointed look towards his companions, receiving two sets of eye-rolls in reply. "So, do you know where you are? How much did anyone tell you?"

"I’m in a glass cage," Bucky deadpanned. "Someone called this place 'Avengers Tower' but that doesn’t mean a whole lot to me. And nobody’s told me much of anything, like _why_ I’m here. ("I explained that to you, it’s not my fault you didn’t want to listen," Natasha called from across the lobby.) I was doing fine on my own, I was finding myself again, getting back into the swing of having a life, when she swooped in, knocked me out, and I woke up in a box in future-Manhattan."

"We want to help you, Bucky. I know you don’t have much reason to trust us right now, but we really do want to help you, in any way we can," Steve implored. "I only just found out about an hour ago that you were here and I came as fast as I could. Now, I didn’t send Natasha to bring you in, but I will admit that we have been looking for you since you and I parted ways in Washington. You’re on Interpol’s most wanted list, we wanted to find you before anyone else did."

"I don’t need your help, and I’m pretty good at hiding."

Natasha strode over to the window and elbowed Steve away from the intercom. "I wasn’t even looking for you and I found you in the middle of a farmer’s market buying apples."

"I was buying _plums_."

"Buying fruit. Same difference. You weren’t exactly doing a very good job of being inconspicuous."

"No one else recognized me and I’d been living there for a month."

"You and Steve have the same idea of what constitutes a disguise, and let me tell you, it’s not a good one." ("It _works_ ," Steve insisted.)

"Well, are you comfortable… enough? Do you need anything?" Steve asked, squeezing around Natasha and taking back control of the intercom button.

"Yeah, I could use some room service. The food selection isn’t that great; any chance I could get a filet mignon sent up? Medium rare, please, and then I could use some peace and quiet to come to terms with my situation, ok?" Bucky asked sarcastically.

Steve took his finger off the intercom button. Bucky could see his lips moving, but he couldn’t make out what he was saying. So the glass was pretty well soundproofed as well as reinforced. Good to know.

The intercom crackled back to life. "No, promises, but I’ll see what I can do," Steve said. Steve turned and collected his friends. Bucky watched the elevator doors close behind them. 

Twenty minutes later, Bucky watched the elevator open again and the woman who wasn’t the Black Widow (she seemed to be in charge of things here, even if she wasn’t ostentatious about it) stepped through with a retinue of guards and a waiter with a tray. It was the filet mignon he had requested. He gave a little smirk.

\----------------------

"So what do we do now?" Steve asked as soon as the elevator doors closed. "Now that we’ve found him and brought him in, what’s our next move?"

"You’re telling me you didn’t actually have a plan beyond 'Operation: Find Barnes'?" Sam asked.

"I had a plan. Emphasis on _had_. And it involved you and me finding him, talking to him, and having him come in willingly," Steve explained.

Natasha snorted, stifling a laugh. Steve glared at her.

"Well, now that he’s here, how about we move on to 'Operation: Observe Barnes and Make Sure He’s Not Going To Kill Us All In Our Sleep'," Sam suggested.

Steve glared at him too.

\----------------------

Sam found Steve in the gym, whaling away at what appeared to be his third heavy bag of the evening. It had been less than an hour since they had parted ways at the elevator.

"You eaten yet?" Sam asked.

"Nope," Steve grunted, not stopping his assault on the punching bag.

"You wanna talk before or after dinner? Because we need to talk."

Steve paused and looked at Sam. "What do we need to talk about?"

"What do you think, Steve? Now that we’ve got Barnes, what are we gonna do with him?"

"I don’t know, maybe not keep him locked up indefinitely? He’s not dangerous."

"I’m going to just ignore the 'not dangerous' part. He’s not the same guy he used to be. You want your friend back, and I don’t think you’re gonna get him. I mean, I never met the guy before he got the whole brainwashing treatment, but when I was a kid, I read everything about the Howling Commandos that I could get my hands on. And he is not the same James Barnes from those books."

"But he’s also not the Winter Soldier anymore. And I’m not the same Steve Rogers I was before I went into the ice, either. We both changed when we thawed out. HYDRA took his memories, took his past and changed his future, but they couldn’t change who he is fundamentally. I don’t need the old Bucky to come back, I just need him to figure out who he wants to be now. And to know that I’m here for him and that he’s not alone in this."

\-----------------

Unable to sleep, Bucky stood at the window on the outer wall, staring out into the night. He was watching the city lights flickering though the cloud cover blowing in. The fog in his head had begun to clear, but he still had a long way to go. He’d managed to remember a few good things, and a few very bad things. Steve said he wanted to help, but he didn’t know the things Bucky knew, the things he had done as the Winter Soldier. If he did, Bucky would lose him all over again. He didn’t want that to happen, but it felt inevitable. The only question was it going to happen now, abrupt and acutely painful, or later as Steve slowly learned the things he had done, the pain of watching the look on his face changing from one day to the next until the day finally came that Steve wouldn’t be able make himself look Bucky in the eyes. And then he’d be gone. Same result, either way.

It felt inevitable. He hated that it felt like that was the only possible ending. He felt split inside. He wanted to stay detached so he wouldn’t hurt as much, but he also wanted to fight to get Steve back and to _keep_ him.

\----------------------

The next morning at breakfast, the Avengers were having a lively argument about the Tower’s newest resident. Tony had started a betting pool for how long it would be before Steve did something stupid and got himself shot or stabbed or something by the grumpy assassin in Banner Lab 4. ("He was brainwashed when he did that, Tony. He’s not gonna shoot me again. Where would he even get a gun in there?" "He could probably build one. Have you ever seen what kinds of home-made weapons get confiscated in prisons all the time? I have seen a damn working crossbow." "Crossbow? Cool." "Clint, no." "Sam?" "Steve, you know I don’t trust the guy. Doesn’t mean I won’t help you, but he has not earned my trust yet." "Clint? Back me up on the brainwashing thing?" "Whoa, man, don’t drag me into this before I’ve had my coffee." "You’re on your third cup. You already contributed to the conversation." "I said 'Crossbow? Cool' and Natasha hit me. And three cups means I’m still at least one cup shy of fully functional.") Natasha finally shouted them all down and forbade any money from changing hands over the man formerly known as the Winter Soldier on pain of, well, pain. 


	2. Crazy Little Thing Called Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Song is "Crazy Little Thing Called Love" - Queen
> 
> https://youtu.be/zO6D_BAuYCI

"I’m not saying you’re not _allowed_ to, but if you _do_ decide to spend tonight on the restricted floor, you will not have elevator access and you will not be able to leave until I personally come get you. Do you understand?" Maria Hill asked Steve.

"I understand, Ma’am. I also understand that I am not supposed to enter the lab. I just want to be there in case he needs someone to talk to. You saw the footage. He needed someone to talk him down, not knock him out."

"You saw last night’s security footage, too. Barnes became violent, without warning and without provocation. He made an attempt to escape, we took appropriate measures."

"With all due respect, he looked disoriented, like he woke up and didn’t recognize where he was and panicked. But even if he did, we _are_ holding him prisoner. Given his history and what we’ve all read in the Winter Soldier files, we have provoked him," Steve pushed.

"Choose your words carefully, Captain Rogers. Are you implying that we have somehow stooped to HYDRA’s level?" Hill pushed back.

"No, Ma’am, I am not, and I’m sorry if it sounded that way. I’m just concerned for his well-being. I think we need to give him a chance to re-acclimatize in more normal circumstances, not keeping him locked in a laboratory. Can we at least give him a real room?"

"Not until we can be sure he’s stable enough to not be a danger to any of the other occupants of this building. Which, contrary to popular belief, we are working on evaluating. Getting back to the original topic, would you like us to clear you a space in one of the other labs on the restricted floor?"

"If you could just send up a cot and bedding, I’d actually prefer to sleep in the lobby. That way I’ll be at hand if anything happens."

"We can do that. Remember, take your phone with you. We’ll have someone watching the security cams 24/7, but if you need anything, calling me will be the quickest way."

"Thank you, Ma’am," Steve nodded.

"Oh, one more thing, Rogers. I highly recommend you go work off some of your stress in the meantime. I understand that he was your best friend, but we need to approach our situation objectively. We can’t just take your word that he’s not dangerous anymore, we have to be _sure_ of it," Hill said, tacitly dismissing Steve from her office.

\-------------------

Steve found Sam in the common room in a heated Mario Kart battle with Tony and Rhodey. Steve leaned over the back of the couch and watched to the end of the Star Cup before Sam finally asked him what he wanted.

"Hill wants me to go 'de-stress' for a while. I was wondering if you wanted to go for a run and talk some things over?" Steve asked.

"I hope you’re talking about hitting the indoor track because it is the middle of the day in the middle of summer in New York. It’s kind of hot for us normal people to be out running right now."

"Sure, that works, I guess. I mean, it’s a nice enough view from up there, but nothing compares to Central Park for a good run."

"Central Park when it’s not 90 degrees and humid out, you mean."

"Yeah," Tony chipped in. "This is why I added the indoor running track. Because most of us don’t have supersoldier thermoregulation. I can add some pigeons for a more authentic experience if you want."

"Please don’t," Rhodey sighed.

\-----------------------

The first lap was run in near silence. Sam could see that Steve was trying hard to figure out how to say what was on his mind. He would keep pace, but then he’d get distracted and speed up, realize what he was doing and double back. This happened about five times before Sam told him to just let himself go for as many laps as he needed ("You’ll be back around in no time, and I’m not going anywhere.") to work it out. Steve nodded his thanks and took off. At least Steve had toned down the 'On your left's after Sam had one-upped him with an 'On your above' on a mission.

Four laps later (for Sam), Steve slowed back down again and fell into step with Sam. He still hadn’t said anything, but his look of 'Please ask me what’s bothering me because otherwise I’ll just keep repressing my thoughts and feelings' was nearly incandescent. Sam finally broke the silence.

"Alright, Steve, what is it? You said you wanted to run and talk and there hasn’t been a whole lot of talking yet."

"It’s about Bucky…" Steve began, and tailed off again.

"Uh-huh. You’re gonna have to be more specific."

"Well, um, I don’t know. I don’t know how to say this, really. You know that as soon as I found out he was still alive, I knew I had to get him back. And now that he _is_ back, everything feels kind of… unreal. We spent three months looking for him and now he’s here. He’s been here for a week and I’m only allowed to talk to him though an intercom and when Maria agrees to take me up to see him. It’s not right. He’s spent far too much of his life locked up and isolated. I think if we let him out of that cage and let him actually get to know us, he’ll do a lot better than he is now. At the very least, let me in with him. He’s not gonna hurt me. He had the chance to kill me on the helicarrier, but he didn’t. He could’ve let me drown, but he didn’t. He needs a friend and I need to be there for him and they’re not letting that happen," Steve said, his words growing more confident and emphatic as he spoke. 

"And I’m sorry to dump all of this on you, but I have to say something to someone or I feel like I’m going to burst. Ever since we found him and brought him here, I’ve been so wound up, like I don’t know what to do with myself. I tried to tell myself the feeling would wear off, that it was just the buzz of finally finding him, but no one else seems to be as on edge as I feel. It’s so frustrating that it feels like no one else can see that he’s a person underneath the mythos and that he needs help."

"Steve, he _is_ getting help. It might not look like it to you right now, but he’s getting checked out to make sure he’s not a danger to himself or to anyone else. Maybe it’s not as easy for you to see because of your connection to him. No one else but you knew him before he became the Winter Soldier. You said it yourself that when you first met Natasha, you didn’t entirely trust her because of her history. It took time, but you’re pretty good friends now. The rest of us, we’re still in the early stages of finding out who Barnes was, is, and could be,” Sam said. “I mean, I read about him in books, Tony probably heard stories from his dad, but you’re the only one who _knew_ him before. You can see him as your best friend, we can’t help but also see him as an very recently ex-assassin as well as a war hero and your friend."

Steve was silent for the next lap. He knew Sam was right, but it still felt hard to admit that maybe he couldn’t be objective about Bucky. Maybe he didn’t want to be objective about Bucky.

\------------------

Steve had to admit, the lab had been 'upgraded' a bit since it had been rearranged as temporary housing. The shelves had been filled in with a few dozen books already and an overstuffed armchair had been brought in from somewhere. Bucky wasn’t being allowed an internet connection yet, so no Netflix, but a DVD player had been hooked up to one of the screens in the lab. A selection of movies and TV shows, including all three seasons of Star Trek: The Original Series had been sent up along with it. Good to know that at least some of his suggestions were being considered.

Reaching a stopping point, Bucky tucked a bookmark into a slim brown book, stood up, and strolled over to the intercom.

"Hey, stranger," Bucky drawled. "Haven’t seen you since yesterday evening. Thought you would have been up to see me already."

"Sorry about that," Steve said, glancing away for a moment. "I had some stuff I had to deal with. Sooooo, how are you doing?"

"Not too bad," Bucky shrugged. "Didn’t have anyone scanning or poking me today, just a bunch of questions. Although, I dunno, I think I might actually prefer the scans. Nice and straight-forward, and no open-ended 'And how does that make you feel?' questions. And before you say anything, I know they brought in the shrinks to ask me stuff about my 'incident' last night, but I don’t actually remember any of it. I’m not just being difficult, no matter what they may or may not be saying."

"Ok, that’s _that_ topic off the table, then. So, what are you reading there?"

Bucky held the book up to the glass for Steve to see. Grendel, by John Gardner. The cover featured a hairy humanoid monster howling at the sky.

"You remember reading Beowulf in school?" Bucky asked.

"I remember being really bored with having to analyze the text and doodling the fight scenes into the margins of the pages instead," Steve answered.

"Yeah, and then you got in trouble for 'defacing school property'," Bucky laughed. "Your ma was so upset about having to pay for the school to replace the book. 'He’s done a very good job of illustrating the story, I think the next student to get this book would appreciate it.' Well, this is Beowulf, but told from the monster’s point of view. I’ve just gotten started, but I like it so far. I bet you’d like it, too."

"Whose recommendation was it?"

"I’m not sure. I don’t think they meant to include it; I found it in the inner zipper flap of the suitcase, and the suitcase didn’t have any tags or labels on it."

"I’ll have to ask who donated that to the cause."

"Well, whoever’s it is, you can let them know they’re not getting their book back until I’m done with it. Which, at the rate I’m going through the bookshelf, may not be very long at all. It’s kinda boring up here. I know, I’ve got books and shows, but it’s still boring being stuck in here, not being allowed to go anywhere. At least they’ve hooked me up a direct line to Mission Control so I can ask to be sent new books or coffee or whatever. They sent me up something called a 'Keurig' which, I’ll admit, it’s ok if you want a quick, easy cup, but that’s not how you do proper coffee."

"If you want to be a coffee snob, I’m sure we can find you a cafe that brews a cup that meets your standards. Just wait until you see all the different varieties of beans and different ways to mix coffee and milk and sugar."

"Yeah, _if_ they ever let me out."

"They will."

The conversation stalled out momentarily as Steve and Bucky tried to figure out where to go from there. Bucky absentmindedly pushed his hair back behind his ear and shifted his weight onto one leg. Steve watched him, trying not to look like he was staring, and immediately regretting not bringing a sketchbook up with him. It had been so long since he had gotten to sketch Bucky, and here he was in an oversized t-shirt, sweatpants, and a perfect contrapposto. Steve bit his lip thinking about how he wanted to get that down on paper (and maybe some other places, too).

"I know that look." Bucky’s voice brought Steve out of his reverie. "You’ve got your 'I need to sketch' face on. Do you get much time for that these days? Hope they aren’t keeping you too busy to draw."

"I try to make time."

"That’s good. You’ll have to show me some of your new stuff some time."

"How about I do that tonight? I can call down, get someone to bring my sketchbooks and some pencils up and I can show you everything I’ve done since I got unfrozen."

"I’d love that, but I think I’m gonna have an observer tonight and I don’t know if they’ll be ok with you being here," Bucky said.

"An observer? When did you hear that? No one said anything to me," Steve flustered.

"Nobody _said_ anything, but you can’t hardly miss the cot over there against the wall. They moved that up here about noonish today. So you don’t know anything about it?"

Steve laughed. "That would be mine."

"Yours?"

"Yeah, mine. They didn’t tell you?"

"Nothing. Did they send you because of what I did last night?"

"I sent myself. I asked if would be ok if I slept up here tonight, I thought you could use a friend, a familiar voice if something like that happens again. I mean, I hope it won’t, but if it does, maybe I can help. Does that sound good to you?"

"Yeah, yeah it does," Bucky smiled. "It also sounds like you’d better make that call for your sketchbooks and settle in, because I want to see _everything_."


	3. Headlock

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Song is "Headlock" - Imogen Heap
> 
> https://youtu.be/nGFuEUSfuYE
> 
> Minor use of/reference to the word "queer" as it would have been used in the 1940's.

The word had come down from on high that Bucky had finally been cleared to begin reintegrating with society, starting with the other inhabitants of Avengers Tower. Steve had been the one to deliver the news. As soon as the lab door was unlocked, he was inside and engulfing Bucky in a bear hug. They parted a little awkwardly as soon as Steve realized what he was doing ("Uh, sorry about that, I got a bit excited." "Hey, it’s ok.").

Steve insisted on giving Bucky the grand tour of the Tower. Tony had offered, but Steve thought it would probably not be the best idea for Bucky’s very first interaction with him to be two hours of Tony talking about his Tower, its amenities, and interjecting every ten minutes (or so) about how awesome he is. ("If there’s an official tour, why am I not taking it? Shouldn’t I hear about this place from the guy who owns-slash-runs it?" "Tony owns it, but Pepper runs it. You’ll meet her eventually, when she’s not too busy running a multi-national corporation. Also, Tony is Howard’s son. He _definitely_ inherited the Stark sense of self-worth." "Ah. Gotcha.") There wasn’t an officially scheduled meet-and-greet, but introductions were made as various people were encountered. ("You met Sam before." "Um. Yeah. Sorry I threw you off a helicarrier, but hey, it looks like you survived." "Apology accepted, and I’m _not_ sorry for kicking you in the head, if that’s any consolation." "Ok, thank you Sam, we’re moving on now.")

Bucky insisted on moving his possessions from the lab to his new room by himself. Hill told him that there were interns who would be more than happy to help him out and to make the transition faster and easier, but he insisted. It wasn’t much, but he was doing it for himself. And if he got lost a couple times in this gigantic building with its _at least_ five different blocs of elevators, well, he was just getting familiarized with his new 'neighborhood.'

\---------------------

The Avengers’ Monthly Movie Night rolled around again. Steve invited Bucky along for some popcorn and icebreaking. Bruce was at a physics conference in Texas, but everyone else was present. Even Thor ("I have come to greatly enjoy our monthly ritual of feasting upon exploded cereal grains and viewing your unusual Midgardian entertainment.") had made time for Movie Night.

"So, I’ve got a short list of the movies we as a team submitted for consideration and haven’t watched yet this year," Tony said, handing a sheet of computer paper to Bucky. "Since you’re the newest addition, how about you pick?"

Bucky looked at the list. He didn’t recognize any of the titles. He closed his eyes and jabbed a finger at the page. "Ok, it looks like we’re watching… ParaNorman."

"ParaNorman? Who put a cartoon on the list?" Tony asked.

"You put the The Iron Giant on there," Natasha shot back.

"I only picked that because of the name, honestly. But seriously, who put ParaNorman on there?"

"It was nominated for both an Academy Award and a BAFTA," Clint insisted.

Pepper gave Tony a gentle smack to the back of the head. "Oh, let’s just watch the movie, ok? You can complain to me later."

J.A.R.V.I.S. queued up Netflix and selected ParaNorman and Movie Night began in earnest.

\--------------------

"Wait, did he say ' _boy_ friend'?" Bucky asked as the credits began to roll.

"Great, because this is exactly the conversation we need to be having right now," Tony said sarcastically. "Clint, you should vet your movies better."

"Hey, at least he didn’t land on The Manchurian Candidate. If I remember correctly, _you_ put that one on the list," Clint retorted.

"And it’s officially _off_ the list as of right now," Steve amended.

"Were those captions right? He really _did_ say 'boyfriend'?" Bucky asked again, looking from face to face to see if anyone was actually listening to him anymore.

"Yes, he did. People can do that nowadays," Sam replied.

"People could do it back in in the day, too. It just… I didn’t know it could be so… _casual_ ," Bucky said, his face becoming contemplative.

"So you don’t have a problem with it?" Tony asked, surprised. "I thought that, well, since you grew up back in the Dark Ages…. Huh. This conversation took an unexpected turn."

"Steve grew up back then and he went to Pride this year," Natasha added.

"And I didn’t see that coming, either," Tony remarked.

"He went to what? What’s Pride?"

"It’s a bit more complex than we can go into tonight, but it’s essentially a parade/festival for the LGBT community to celebrate and to acknowledge the fight for rights and visibility and acceptance," Natasha explained.

"And before you ask, 'LGBT' stands for 'Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, and Transgender.' There’s other letters too, but we don’t need to go into those right now," Sam added.

"I’m the one who _went_ to Pride, do I not get to speak?" Steve interjected.

\------------------

"You’re awake early" Steve commented as Bucky shuffled blearily into the Avengers’ breakfast nook at 5:37 am.

"'Awake' is debatable," Bucky mumbled, pouring himself a cup of coffee out of habit even though he had figured out by now that the serum caused the caffeine to have no discernible effect on him. “You got time to talk?”

Sam looked at Steve, then to Bucky then back to Steve again.

"Go on without me," Steve said. "I’ll run later and I don’t want to hold you up. It’s supposed to get up to 87°F today."

"Alright. Back on schedule tomorrow, though, right?"

"Unless something comes up between now and then, yeah. Enjoy your run."

Sam gave a wave over his shoulder as he headed out.

"What’s up?" Steve asked (entirely too cheerfully for this early hour, Bucky thought as he grabbed a slice of toast off of Steve’s plate).

"Last night. You said you’re…?"

"Bisexual."

"Women _and_ men? And? Or? Both?"

"Short answer, yes."

"And you’ve always known?"

"Well, I didn’t know the word for it until about two years ago, but yeah, I’ve always sort of known. Didn’t always understand it, but I’ve always known. Please don’t tell me you’re going to have a problem with this, Buck." Steve began to look concerned. "I haven’t changed, I just figured out how to describe myself better."

"No, no, I don’t have a problem. Steve. I don’t. I _couldn’t_. I’m sorry, it’s early, I’m not making sense." Bucky shook his head, then drained his coffee off and walked to the counter to pour himself another cup.

Suddenly Bucky laughed, the sound jarring in the morning quiet. "Oh my God, he was right. He was fucking _right_."

"What? Who was right? Right about what?" Steve asked.

"I don’t remember his name, but the conversation stuck with me. It was back in the Army, before you joined or something. I remember talking to him about you, and he said something like 'Are you sure he’s not? Because we tend to gravitate to one another.' And I said that, no, you weren’t, because I’d know. And it turns out he was right all along."

Steve’s face became introspective, his head turned slightly down. His lips moved, but he didn’t speak out loud. Bucky thought he could make out the word 'We.' Steve looked up again.

"Did you just come out?" He asked softly.

"Come out? That makes it sound like I’m a debutante," Bucky said with a grin.

"Is that how you want to do it? We can get you fitted for a nice suit and tie and present you like a debutante. Presenting James Buchanan Barnes for entry into the esteemed society of bisexuals," Steve said with an exaggerated flourish.

"Ehh, not quite," Bucky corrected. "Never really actually been into women."

"Really? You went home with a different girl practically every time you went out dancing."

"Yeah, well I thought if I kept trying, maybe something would eventually click and I’d stop being a queer. Never happened. The way I see it now, if HYDRA couldn’t manage to erase it, then it’s probably a pretty integral part of me, but back then? Back then I just thought I was broken."

"You’re not broken, Buck. You never were."

"I dunno, I think I’m broken in all sorts of new kinds of ways. Just not that one."

"Well, then let me help you put yourself back together, ok?"

\------------------------

A couple days later, Bucky came out to the whole team. ("Wait, really? _Both_ of you?" "Yeah." "And neither of you knew?" "Really." "You sure you didn’t know?" "Look, if I’d known, I would’ve been all over that." "And that’s an image I’m not entirely sure I wanted to be picturing." "You brought it up." "Awww, look, Steve’s blushing." "I am not." “So, are you two dating now?" "Don’t put them on the spot like that." "What? He’s the one who said he wanted to jump Cap’s bones." "Stop it; look at Steve, he’s turning into a tomato." "Ok, sorry. But are you– Ow! Did you just hit me?" "You deserved that." "No, we’re not dating.")

\-------------------

That evening Steve and Bucky retired to Bucky’s room. Steve sat in the desk chair, sketchbook in hand. Bucky lay on the bed, continuing his Star Trek viewing. He’d made it up to 'The Trouble With Tribbles' and kept interrupting Steve’s sketching by laughing.

"Could you keep still for a moment? I’m trying to get the shading right on your face."

"You got me hooked on this show; if you wanna draw me, you could’ve waited for a more serious episode."

"Please?"

"Oh, alright," Bucky said, settling back into what he hoped was the expression he’d had on when Steve started sketching.

"Hey, Buck?" Steve asked a couple minutes later. 

"Hm?"

"Oh, yeah, um, you can talk again. I finished your face, just try not to move the rest of you?"

"Sure. What’s up?"

"What if we _were_ dating? I mean, do you want to? Now that we can. _Properly_ , I mean. Aw hell, did you know? In New York, we could even get married if we wanted."

"That’s sweet, Steve, but I don’t think I’m ready to start dating again, much less think about getting _married_."

Steve looked a little hurt.

"No, no, don’t take it like that. It’s not your fault," Bucky continued. "I know, on the surface, I look like I’ve got it all together, but I’m still pretty messed up. I’ve got to work some things out before I could even _think_ about putting that on you."

"You don’t have to do it alone; I can help you," Steve entreated

"I’m not doing it alone," Bucky replied. "I’ve got you back. I’ve got friends again. I mean, they seem like they’re coming around to me. Even Sam."

"So why can’t we be _together_ -together?"

"I don’t know," Bucky said, starting to get antsy. "I just _can’t_ right now. And I don’t know when I’ll be ready again."

"Why not? Did you mean it when you said that if you had known, you would’ve… you know?" Steve pushed, shy and insistent and beginning to blush a little.

"Yes, Steve. Yes I would’ve," Bucky barked out, a little more sharply than he maybe intended. "Everything. Kissed you goodbye before work. Brought you flowers just to surprise you. Maybe I couldn’t have taken you out dancing, but we could’ve danced together in our apartment. And yeah, I’d’ve slept with you, damn the laws. But that was all before HYDRA fucked with my head. I _look_ normal, but there’s still so much I haven’t gotten back, and there’s things I _have_ gotten back that I wish I could forget again. I’m just not stable enough and you don’t need me freaking out on you in the middle of the night. And I know you want to help, I’m sorry, I really am, but I can’t right now. I just can’t. Please don’t argue this with me right now."

Steve closed his sketchbook, gave Bucky a thin smile, stood up and crossed the room. Bucky rolled onto his side, facing away from Steve. He heard the door close behind him.

\-------------------

Bucky didn’t see Steve at breakfast the next morning. Well, that was normal enough. He ate before running, and didn’t have any obligation to be social with the non-runners when they came down to eat.

Steve wasn’t at lunch either. 

Or dinner.

Hill said that Steve had requested a couple 'personal days' off and hadn’t said where he was going.

\----------------------

Bucky flung one of his boots across the room, hitting his bookcase and breaking one of the shelves. Books spilled onto the floor but he made no move to clean them up.

Well, if he wanted to drive Steve away, it looked like he was doing a pretty good job of starting it.

And yeah, it hurt.

\-------------------------

Bruce did a double-take at the stacks of books sitting in the doorway of Bucky’s room. Bucky had neatly piled up all the books so he could do the necessary repairs after last night’s outburst.

"So _that’s_ where Grendel went," Bruce said excitedly. "I was looking all over for it. I was starting to think I’d left it in a hotel somewhere or at one of the conferences I’d attended this year, I’ve been to so many already."

"So that was your suitcase? You should probably take the book back now because if I put it back on my shelf again, I’ll probably forget I have it. It was a pretty good read," Bucky said, handing off the book.

"Thanks. You must be James. We haven’t met yet. I’m Bruce. Bruce Banner." He offered his hand.

"Well, technically I’m James, yeah, but I think I prefer Bucky." He held out his hand to accept but froze before completing the handshake. "Wait. 'Banner' as in 'Banner Lab 4'?"

"Yes?" Bruce said, reacting to the suspicion creeping into Bucky’s voice.

"That was _your_ lab they kept me in?"

"Uh, yeah, sorry about that. It was probably a bit overkill putting you in there."

"So, did you reinforce the hell out of everything in there because of me? If so, I suppose I ought to feel flattered that everyone thinks I’m that strong (this shelf doesn’t count), but I’m just kinda pissed that–"

"I reinforced the lab for me. So I couldn’t accidentally destroy it," Bruce replied, cutting him off.

"Wait. For you?" Bucky’s curiosity overrode his irritation. "Because, no offense, but you don’t exactly look like you could accidentally destroy a lab. Unless there’s something you’re not saying. Which, given the fact that I have watched a movie with a literal Norse god, seems entirely possible, now that I think about it."

"I take it no one’s told you anything about me yet?" Bruce asked.

"Not really. Steve just said 'You’ll have to meet Bruce when he gets back from his conference trip' and Tony told me to ask your opinion on Pluto; he didn’t specify Pluto the dog or Pluto the planet," Bucky said.

"Pluto the _planet_ ," Bruce emphasized. "And you can tell Tony that there will not be a repeat show, no matter how much he wants to record it and put it on YouTube."

"Alright, now I’m _really_ curious. _What_ are you hinting at? What’s your secret?"

"I don’t usually like to talk about it, but given that pretty much everyone else in this facility was informed about my 'condition' before meeting me, I assumed you’d been briefed, too." 

Bruce leaned against the doorframe with his hands in his pockets. Bucky thought he looked a lot less casual and collected than he was trying to appear.

"Hey, if you don’t want to talk about whatever it is, don’t do it just for me," Bucky said. "Believe me, I’ve got _plenty_ of issues I’d rather not talk about right now."

"No, if you’re going to live here with us, you should know who we are. You got some form of the supersoldier serum, right? (Bucky nodded.) And obviously, you know Steve got the serum. A lot of different people since then have tried to replicate it. I was part of a research team trying to do just that, and, well, it didn’t go so great for me. I tested the stuff on myself and, this is a bit of an understatement, but I had what we will call an 'adverse reaction' to it."

Bucky flinched. "Please tell me that’s your real face?"

"Yes?"

"Oh, thank God. Last person who had an “adverse reaction” to the serum was the Red Skull, and let me tell you, watching him peel his face off, it was _not_ ok. I still sometimes see that in my nightmares."

Bruce gave a sympathy cringe. "Yeesh. Sorry for bringing it up. But, um, anyway. Most of the time, I’m normal enough, but if I get too angry, or worked up, I will, as Tony puts it, 'turn into an enormous green rage-monster.' The serum I was testing got the strength part right, but everything else was very wrong. I’ve been working on trying to manage that part of me. I think I’m making progress, but it’s slow going. I’m not proud of some of the things I’ve done when the Other Guy was in control, but it’s part of me and I have to figure out how to live with it."

"You said 'when the Other Guy was in control'. Are you aware of what you’re doing? Like, do you know what’s happening but can’t control it, or is it more like blacking out?" Bucky’s curiosity was definitely piqued now.

"A little bit of both. At first, it was full blackout; I’d wake up and not know where I was or what I had done. As I learned more about my condition and began to be able to have more control over the how and when of the transformation, I began to regain some autonomy from the Other Guy. Now it’s more like being a passenger along for the ride. I can talk to the driver. There’s no guarantee he’ll listen to me, but I have to try."

"And you said you’ve done things you’re not proud of. I don’t need to know what they were, just, how did you come to terms with what you did?"

"Funnily enough, Grendel there," Bruce pointed at the stack of books, "helped me out in the early months after the first incident. I tried to isolate myself from people so I wouldn’t hurt anyone, and after one blackout I woke up in the cabin of a Bigfoot enthusiast who was convinced that he’d rescued me from 'the green Sasquatch.' That was his book. He bought it because of the cover art, thinking it was about Bigfoot. I started reading it and he said if I liked it, I could keep it because it wasn’t what he had thought it was. I saw a lot of myself in Grendel, the monster who just wanted to find his place in the world. It’s not a very positive story, but in its own way, it helped me. I am what I make of myself, so I try to be the best person I can to try to sort of cancel out the Other Guy."

Bucky nodded appreciatively before changing the subject.

"So. Pluto. Why did Tony tell me to ask you about it?"

"Oh, of course. You wouldn’t have heard. Pluto’s been demoted to 'dwarf planet'."

"What?!"

"Sit down, this might take a while."


	4. Song for the Asking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Song is "Song for the Asking" - Simon & Garfunkel
> 
> https://youtu.be/6Vv6dh2W2gk

Sometimes Steve didn’t think things through all the way before acting. This was one of those instances.

When Bucky came out to him, it felt like everything he had hoped for had come true. Finally, _finally_ they could be together like they deserved. Of _course_ he asked. He’d wanted to ask that question for a very long time. And in asking, he had assumed that it was a foregone conclusion that Bucky would say yes. He had assumed, pushed, and pushed too hard. And Bucky had pushed back.

It wasn’t a hard no by any means, but it still stung. Steve hadn’t planned for a no. He had to regroup and plan out what to do next.

\------------------------

On their next morning run, Steve had told Sam about his unsuccessful bid at making things official with Bucky ("He said no." "Really? Just 'no'?" "Well, he said he 'can’t right now.' What am I supposed to do? I thought he’d say yes." "Well, if right now isn’t gonna work, then I’d say wait until he’s ready. When he wants it to happen, he’ll let you know."). And that had turned into Steve brooding over things in his room until after the later breakfast had cleared up (he didn’t think he could face Bucky just yet because then everyone else would be able to read him and know that _something_ had happened and then things would get awkward). Which in turn had resulted in asking Hill for a couple days off to deal with some 'personal issues.'

\-----------------

Which was how Steve found himself in a tiny bed-and-breakfast halfway to Albany, eating french toast in a violently pastel and chintz dining room, and feeling decidedly guilty. He didn’t run away from problems, he took the initiative and faced his obstacles head-on. All except for this one. Which, honestly, shouldn’t even have become a problem except that he had overreacted.

Bucky brought out the best and the worst in him. Steve could be generous and he could be greedy. He could be bold and he could be foolhardy. He could be modest and he could be presumptuous. He wanted the best for Bucky, but he hadn’t taken the time to see things from _Bucky_ ’s perspective. Just _his_ idea of what the best thing for Bucky would be. Of course that would rub Bucky the wrong way, being told what someone else thought he wanted, what someone else thought was best for him, even (especially?) if that someone was Steve.

Steve sat at the little table lost in thought and trying not to drip syrup on the (probably antique) lace tablecloth.

\----------------------

By the second morning Steve was more than ready to leave. The owner of the bed-and-breakfast was a sweet old lady, but as soon as she had realized who he really was, she had confessed to him that she had had the biggest crush on him as a girl and she still had all of the programs from the Captain America shows she had attended, and she had been to quite a few. He listened politely and hoped she wouldn’t notice that he was turning steadily pinker as she told him things he really hoped he’d be able to forget. He paid his bill ("Oh, no, it’s on the house." "Please, I insist. It’s only right." "Oh, you. Always a gentleman.") and got back on the road. Heading home.

\-----------------------

It was about an hour before dinner when Steve knocked on Bucky’s door. It was open already, but it wouldn’t be polite for him to just walk in. Bucky jumped a little and turned quickly to see who was at the door. His face immediately lit up when he saw Steve, and then just as quickly fell into a glower.

"Hey, stranger," Steve said, trying to smooth things over. He knew he deserved that glare, but he didn’t have to like it.

"Oh, so we’re talking again?" Bucky snarked, turning back to his book.

"Sure, if you want to."

"If _I_ want to? _You’re_ the one who disappeared for two days."

"Yes. Yes I did. And it was a mistake, I know that now. I fucked up. I want to try to apologize for it. Can I come in? Do you want to talk now or later?"

Bucky pursed his lips and was silent for a moment. With deliberate slowness, he tucked the bookmark in and set his book on his bedside table. He turned to Steve again. "Oh, alright. Come in and sit down already."

Steve pulled the chair out from Bucky’s desk, straddled it, and crossed his arms over the back.

Bucky stared at Steve, waiting for him to speak first.

"I’m sorry. I overreacted," Steve said. "'Not now' doesn’t mean 'no' and I know that, I just wasn’t expecting it. I honestly thought you’d say yes because of how we used to be. I’ve changed, you’ve changed, neither of us can go back to what we were, and we shouldn’t have to. I _know_ we’ve both changed but I still didn’t consider that when I kept pushing. I know HYDRA put you through hell. I should have gone along with it when you set your own pace. If and when, although I’m not gonna lie, I’m hoping it’s a 'when,' you’re ready to think about dating, my offer still stands."

"Well, you’re definitely honest. Apology noted," Bucky said, unbending a little.

"Hmm. How honest would you like me to be?" Steve asked. "Because, if we’re being brutally honest here, you’ve been kind of standoffish, too. I mean, you’ve always been a bit of an asshole, but this feels deliberate. When you think none of us are looking, you’ll let your guard down. Why bother putting up walls if all you really want is for someone to tear them down?"

Steve noted that Bucky had the decency to look a little bit chagrined.

Bucky opened his mouth to speak, paused, closed it again, and pulled a face. He looked down, composed himself, and tried again.

"If I keep putting up walls and you keep tearing them down, it says to me that you think I’m actually worth it. I don’t know if I deserve it, but at least I know that you really mean what you say. I know I shouldn’t keep 'testing' you, but right now I kinda feel like I have to. Like, is this real? Are we really friends? Am I being set up for something? Is it just a cover? Do you really love me? Do _I_ really love _you_ or is it just a product of my fractured brain?"

"I _want_ this, Steve, but I can’t have it," Bucky continued. "I’m not stable right now. I still have fucking nightmares and sometimes they get so bad that I do not regret locking myself in my room at night. Thank goodness for the soundproofing; I made J.A.R.V.I.S. promise not to tell anyone about my nightmares because then they’d get all concerned and want to start poking around in my head and I have had more than enough of that for a whole lifetime."

"And if we did start dating right now, what if I woke up and I didn’t remember you and I tried to hurt you? What then? You’d probably do something noble and stupid like not fighting back. _Again_. I’d always have that fear in the back of my mind that I might hurt you. You have to admit, that is not an ideal relationship," Bucky said, shifting his position so that he could lay down.

Bucky didn’t give Steve a chance to respond. He just kept going, spilling out secrets he’d kept, willingly or unwillingly. "And, and… oh, God. You don’t know what I’ve done. I don’t even know the whole of it, but from the pieces I can remember, how could I ever deserve you after all that? I ought to just tell you now and get it over with. We’ll see if you still feel the same way after you find out what I’ve done. Let’s just do it now and save both of us the pain. That way you don’t spend months thinking that it’s gonna be like some fairytale, where my fairy godmother comes down, waves her magic wand, and suddenly everything is magically ok again. For fuck’s sake, Steve, I killed a man right in front of you in your apartment in Washington. My past is death and lies and atrocities and I can’t make you into an accessory to that."

"That wasn’t you," Steve said firmly. "And besides, he’s not actually dead. Long story."

"Uh, ok, but, I’m pretty sure that was me. Don’t tell me I hit you so hard you’ve got memory loss, too."

"That’s not what I meant and you know it," Steve huffed. "You weren’t in control of yourself. You weren’t _you_. HYDRA turned you into a weapon."

"HYDRA just took the skills I had and honed them. I was already a weapon."

"You were _not_. You were (and _are_ ) human. You were flawed, we all were, but you were still conscientious and good. You did the dirty work because it had to be done and because you were the best at it, not because you enjoyed it. We all knew how you felt about being a sniper. We gave you your space, but we were always there for you when you finally felt like you needed to talk. A weapon wouldn’t have come to me at 2 am in my tent out in the field in a crisis of morals. Do you remember that?"

Bucky shook his head.

"Well, you did," Steve affirmed. "And you would never have done the things that HYDRA made you do if you hadn’t been brainwashed. Know that."

"You can’t tell me 'know that' when you don’t know what I’ve done," Bucky snapped.

"I _do_ know. I read the Winter Soldier files. I know what they made you do and I’m still here, so you can stop trying to use that to push me away. You said it yourself, I’m with you til the end of the line."

"You read my files?" Bucky said, pulling himself back up into a sitting position. "I have files? Did they put… everything in there?"

"Well, yes, I read your files. I needed to know what they’d done to you so that we’d have the best chance and finding and helping you," Steve explained. "Most of it was in Russian, so I don’t think that everything was in there, but there was enough."

"And it didn’t bother you?" Bucky asked, incredulous.

"Of course it bothered me, but not in the way you’re thinking. You were a prisoner of war. You were brainwashed. None of what you did was your fault."

"Well, thanks, but I don’t think everyone is gonna see it that way."

"Well then, we’ll just have to convince them."

"Oh, yes, we’re just going to convince them. So easy," Bucky said, sarcastic, but smiling again.

"One, we have evidence, and two, people seem to respect what the Avengers say," Steve shrugged. "If anyone gets too nasty about anything, I can just keep repeating 'prisoner of war' until they stop."

"Really, Steve? You’d really guilt trip someone like that for me?"

"I will if I have to."

Steve got up from the chair, walked over to the bed, and pulled Bucky into a deep, bone-crushing hug. Bucky returned the action. 

Maybe they had a chance, after all.


	5. Ein Lied

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Song is "Ein Lied" - Rammstein
> 
> https://youtu.be/exKMpzF0yP0 (and the lyrics with translation: http://herzeleid.com/en/lyrics/rosenrot/ein_lied)

Steve was busy hanging ornaments on a series of pre-lighted faux-pine garlands draped around the walls of his bedroom. He was maybe a little behind schedule on his Christmas decorating, but hey, it wasn’t Christmas yet. He still had a few days. ("But what’s the point of decorating at all if you wait until the week of? The whole point is having your decorations up long enough ahead of time that you’re so sick of them by the time Christmas actually rolls around that you take them down before New Year’s.") And besides, there had been a gigantic, interdenominational tree set up in the common room for almost a full month now (it had gone up immediately after Thanksgiving). Thor had won the inaugural lottery for the right to choose the tree-topper. He chose a Julbocken, which was a straw goat apparently first created in his honor by the Vikings. ("And people say _I_ have an ego," Tony teased.) Steve didn’t need another tree just for himself. A few garlands with baubles and lights would be enough.

When he decided that the ornaments finally looked evenly-spaced enough, he climbed down from the chair he had been standing on and promptly spooked as he turned around and saw Bucky eyeing him appreciatively from the doorway.

"Jeez, Buck, you’re quiet tonight. How long have you been standing there?"

"Long enough for a pretty good show," Bucky said, his grin quickly approaching leer territory. He was holding a medium-sized gift box in front of him. The lid and box were wrapped separately (for easy access?) and there was a big red ribbon on top of the box.

"You couldn’t have knocked or something to let me know you were there?"

"Can you really fault me for getting distracted? I mean, have you looked at yourself in a mirror?"

Steve felt himself starting to blush.

"I know it’s not Christmas yet, but would you like to open one of your presents a little early?" Bucky asked, changing the subject.

"Oh, thanks, but I can wait," Steve said. "Would you mind putting it under the tree with everything else?"

"Mmm, actually, I think this one should stay right here," Bucky said, his voice becoming slightly evasive.

"Well, then you can set it on my desk or something. Why, what’s up with it? Is it inappropriate or just embarrassing? Should I not open it in front of anyone else?"

"You _definitely_ shouldn’t open it in front of anyone else," Bucky said, fully leering now. " _And_ I think you should also go ahead and open it now."

"Just put it on the desk or something, I’ve got a bit of clean-up to do right now," Steve said, scooping up loose ornament boxes and pieces of tissue paper.

"Um, I can’t actually set it down," Bucky said quietly as he managed to maneuver the door closed with one foot. Both hands remained on the gift.

Something clicked in Steve’s head. "Who introduced you to 'Dick in a Box'?"

"…Tony," Bucky mumbled, glancing down at the floor.

"Figures."

"Wait. How do _you_ know about 'Dick in a Box'?"

"Natasha. And why did Tony show you the 'Dick in a Box' video? Because I can think of, hmm, at least three different scenarios."

Bucky sat down on the edge of the bed, stifled a yelp, and quickly stood back up again.

"Paper cut?" Steve asked sympathetically.

"No, just pinched, thank God," Bucky replied. "I ought to ask you to kiss it better."

"That would require an upgrade in relationship status, and you never answered my question."

"Funny you should say that. I asked Tony what his and Pepper’s first date was, trying to get an idea of what it’s like nowadays, and his advice was pretty much 'You already know each other well enough, and the way you look at him and he looks at you, it’s kind of obvious where you want this to go, so you could probably skip the whole 'dinner and drinks thing' and just go right to the part that makes me really glad that I soundproofed everyone’s rooms.' And then Tony had an epiphany, pulled out his phone, and said 'You gotta watch this.'"

"So, your idea of how to finally ask me out was to bribe me with your dick?" Steve said, unable to suppress a smile.

"Steve, almost every single one of my past relationships began and ended with the promise of my dick. I at least gift-wrapped it for you," Bucky teased.

"Well, thank you for the consideration, but maybe I like the idea of dinner and drinks first," Steve countered with a laugh.

"Alright, where do you want to go?"

"I’ve got a list of places I want to try. Come on, take off that stupid box and help me pick."

\----------------------

Ok, so it ended up being dinner, drinks, and a quick stop at a CVS. Halfway through dinner Steve realized that neither he nor Bucky were exactly prepared for the rest of their night’s plans, and he was absolutely _not_ going to ask Tony where in the Tower condoms and lube might be kept.

The first thing Steve did when they got back to his bedroom was to place their purchases within easy reach on the bedside table. The second was to tell J.A.R.V.I.S. that they were to be listed as 'do not disturb' for the rest of the night. Which was accomplished with some difficulty, as Bucky had pushed him up against the wall and was trying to occupy his mouth with something other than words. As soon as J.A.R.V.I.S. had confirmed the request, Steve yielded more than willingly to Bucky’s lips.

Bucky had his left hand clutching at the front of Steve’s shirt and his right pressed between the back of Steve’s head and the wall and was kissing him deeply, desperately, as if trying to make up for all of the missed opportunities and missing years. Steve hadn’t quite figured out where he wanted his hands. One rested lightly on the nape of Bucky’s neck, fingers meandering into his hair. The other hovered indecisively between his back, hip, and ass. 

"How much do you like this shirt?" Bucky whispered into Steve’s ear.

"I think your dirty talk might be a bit rusty," Steve murmured back.

"Oh hush, I _really_ want to just rip it off of you."

Bucky’s right hand slid down to join his left on Steve’s chest, picking impatiently at the shirt buttons.

"Easy there, tiger," Steve said, playfully swatting at Bucky’s hands before unbuttoning his shirt himself.

Bucky made an indeterminate, but definitely appreciative, noise. Staring, he shook his head, saying "I don’t think I’m ever gonna get over that."

"I’m disappointed in you, Bucky," Steve smirked and unbuckled his belt. "I never though _you_ ’d only be in this for my body."

"Steve, listen here you little shit. You shut your mouth or I’m gonna find something better for it to do," Bucky laughed. He hastily began to strip down, trying to catch up with Steve. (On one hand, not having worn underwear meant fewer layers to remove, but on the other hand, trying to keep his rapidly swelling dick away from the zipper was proving a bit touchy.)

Steve pulled a condom out of the box and tossed it to Bucky ("Whenever you’re ready") and lay down on his side. He pulled his knees up a little and glanced over his shoulder to make sure that Bucky was enjoying the view. He lubed up the fingers on his left hand, reached his arm behind him, and pressed his middle finger against his anus. Steve grunted softly as he wiggled his finger in (having done some research was one thing, not having actually _tried_ this before was another). When he felt that he was relaxed enough and starting to get loosened up, he added a second finger. He poked his head back up when he heard a distinct moan from Bucky’s direction.

"Jesus H. Christ, Steve, you have no idea how hot it is watching you finger yourself," Bucky said while slowly stroking his now fully erect penis.

"Don’t you dare come before I finish getting ready for you," Steve warned. "You offered me your dick, and I’m holding you to that. How about instead of rubbing one out, you roll that condom on. I’ll be ready before you know it."

He decided to add a third finger. Just to be on the safe side.

When he felt like he was as ready as he’d ever be (and before Bucky spontaneously combusted from the anticipation), Steve rolled onto his back. He wiped the lube off his fingers with an errant sock, spread his legs, and gave Bucky his best come-hither look.

Bucky came-hither and climbed on top of Steve, planting a handful of quick kisses on his mouth. Steve drew his hands up Bucky’s sides, fingers tracing circles onto his chest.

"I thought you said you didn’t want me to come until I was inside you," Bucky said, squirming as Steve gently pinched his nipples. 

"Yeah, I did," Steve conceded. "Are you really that close?"

Bucky nodded fervently.

"Well, I’m not, so I hope you’ve got a few more tricks up your lack-of-sleeves."

"Oh, don’t worry, I do."

Steve pulled his hands back and wrapped his legs around Bucky’s waist. Bucky grabbed the bottle of lube and carefully slicked himself up. Lining himself up, he lifted Steve’s hips and leaned in, slowly penetrating him. Steve’s little euphoric gasp nearly pushed him over the edge. (And he had barely started, too!) Bucky closed his eyes and focused on his breathing, hoping he wouldn’t disappoint Steve by barely managing a dozen strokes. He’d wanted him so badly for so long, and now that he finally had his chance he was practically frantic with lust. He wanted nothing more than to fuck Steve into a state of incoherent bliss but didn’t think he’d be able to last that long. Well, it was a good thing his skills extended beyond just 'insert tab A into slot B until one or both parties scream.' 

Bucky let out a loud, shuddering moan as he orgasmed, burying himself deep inside Steve. He slumped forward, panting as he came back down to earth. 

"Mmmh, you really needed that, didn’t you?" Steve murmured.

"Yeah," was all Bucky managed as he pulled out and took care of the condom.

"You gonna be able to do a little more for me?" Steve asked, voice rising hopefully. "I know what I said, but you look spent."

"No, it’s ok, I can give you what you need," Bucky said, easing Steve’s hips back down onto the bed and shifting his position. He lay down on his stomach, lifted slightly on his elbows, face about level with the head of Steve’s penis. "Obviously it won’t feel quite the same, fingers versus dick, but I think you’ll like what I’ve got in mind to finish you off."

Steve just smiled, eyes half closed. He didn’t ask what Bucky had planned; he trusted him to do what he felt was best.

Bucky found the bottle of lube again and quickly prepared two fingers on his right hand before slipping them inside Steve. He crooked his left elbow around Steve’s thigh and took his penis into his hand.

Steve moaned quietly. The metal of Bucky’s arm was still a little cool to the touch, but the hand was skin-warm and very different from anything Steve had ever had around his dick before. Bucky gave a few warmup strokes before switching over to his mouth. He kissed lightly at the very tip of Steve’s penis before wrapping his lips around the glans. He started sucking and simultaneously began to stroke his fingers at Steve’s prostate. Steve moaned louder, hips jerking up involuntarily. His fingers clutched at the sheets, trying to dig into the mattress.

"Ohh, fuck me…" Steve sighed.

"’S what I’m trying to do," Bucky mumbled around the head of Steve’s dick.

Steve laughed and came, spilling into Bucky’s waiting mouth. Bucky didn’t swallow right away, instead savoring Steve’s taste. He withdrew his fingers and watched the steady rise and fall of Steve’s chest. Finding the same sock Steve had used earlier, Bucky wiped off his fingers. He sat up, pulled the duvet out from under Steve’s feet, and climbed back up next to him, bundling the two of them under it. He rested his cheek against Steve’s chest. Steve instinctively wrapped an arm around his shoulder. 

"Y’r too good to me," Steve slurred sleepily.

Bucky just yawned and smiled contentedly.


End file.
